The Problem with Human Transfiguration
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "Am I supposed to take that to mean that you're actually trying to make me find you loveable?" "And if I was?" he asked, voice nothing more than a whisper. I rolled my eyes, pushing a sharp elbow into his side. He crumbled with a hiss of pain but didn't move far. Eyeing him with irritation, I announced, "Then you're doing an absolutely horrendous job of it. It won't work anyway."
1. The Problem with Human Transfiguration

For such an undeniably brilliant woman, Professor McGonagall sure did make some stupid decisions. Honestly, it was only natural that I questioned my Professor's intelligence when she decided that it was a good idea to seat Fred bloody Weasley next to me after he and Lee Jordan had interrupted her lessons one too many times. She had decided that it was a good idea to separate the troublesome pair – and it was – but had _also_ decided that it would be best to split me and Stanning up so we could essentially quieten the Gryffindors.

Like hell. Somehow it managed to slip her mind that at one point, in our third year, Weasley and I had gotten into a duel in the middle of the corridor because he'd thought it was a good idea to dye my hair Gryffindor red. It had taken the Pomfrey _hours_ to figure out how to remove the donkey ears from Weasley's head, and how to switch my pig nose back to my regular one. We'd wound up spending weeks in detention – separately, of course. The Professors hadn't wanted to come back to find that we had destroyed their classrooms in the crossfire of one of our arguments.

So how in Merlin's name, did she think it was a good idea to sit us together? We spent most lessons arguing between ourselves – mostly because we were both wary of alerting McGonagall to our squabbling. Neither of us wanted to spend more unnecessary time in detention.

It was just the thought of facing my desk mate that had me walking reluctantly into the classroom where I already knew Weasley would be waiting. For some reason, this just _had_ to be the one lesson that he arrived early too. Of course, I knew why he was doing it – to ensure that I suffered through his presence for much longer than necessary. But, I wasn't going to let him get to me.

Tightening my hold on my bag strap, I kept my head held high as I headed straight for my seat. I didn't even look to Weasley as I settled down and silently wondered just how long we would last before we'd inevitably begin to argue. Rowena, I wouldn't be the one to start the conversation. Not today.

Rummaging through my bag for my essay, I frowned when Weasley cleared his throat. "You're uncharacteristically silent, Landry. What's working at you?"

"Do you even want to know?" I asked dubiously, finally finding my essay and setting it aside. Continuing my search for my quill, I briefly realised that he had leaned closer towards me.

"Of course, I do," he insisted with sincerity that I knew was false.

Setting my bag on the floor, I leaned back in my seat and turned to face Weasley. His eyes held mine, wide and full of honesty. Merlin, I would have believed his words to be true had I not spent the last 5 years at school with him. I just needed to look a little deeper and I found the mischief there.

"Honestly, I'm wondering how long it'll be before you say something to make us argue."

"You know, most people would find me too loveable to argue with."

I scoffed, reaching out to push him away from me. He settled back into his chair as McGonagall walked into the room. "Then I guess most people are blind."

"You're just strange," he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest as McGonagall made her way around the room to collect our essays. When she reached our table, she silently took the essays we held out towards her, but not before rolling her eyes when she realised we were quickly becoming confrontational. "You're just immune for some reason."

"Am I supposed to take that to mean that you're actually _trying_ to make me find you loveable?"

He raised an eyebrow at the obvious scepticism in my voice. Pressing his forearm against the table, Weasley used his other arm to grasp the back of my chair and leaned in closer to me. I just watched his progress with a scowl, refusing to back away from him. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had unnerved me.

"And if I was?" he asked, voice nothing more than a whisper.

I rolled my eyes, pushing a sharp elbow into his side. He crumbled with a hiss of pain but didn't move far. Eyeing him with irritation, I announced, "Then you're doing an absolutely horrendous job of it. It won't work anyway."

"If you're _quite_ finished, Miss Landry" McGonagall started as she got to the front of the classroom and deposited the essays she had collected on her desk, "then we can begin the lesson. And of course, Mr Weasley, I don't think I have to remind you about the importance of personal space, do I?"

"No Professor," Weasley said, still rubbing at his side as he drew away from me.

"See that you don't forget it," she levelled a firm look at Weasley before looking to me too. "Or else I'll have to remind you during detention. Now, last lesson we discussed the issues with human transfiguration, this lesson we will – "

Just as I started to pay attention to our Professor's words, Weasley leaned in towards me as if he didn't need to take any notes. I tried to ignore him and instead focused on the movement of my quill across the parchment. He didn't seem to care.

"Why won't it work?" he whispered and I did my very best not to scoff. It didn't work very well.

Turning towards him, I raised an eyebrow when he just held my gaze unwaveringly. "Why do you _want_ it to work anyway? Do you honestly think you'll be able to do anything to make me find you loveable?"

"You're so annoying," he complained, straightening up in his seat but keeping his eyes on me.

"Right back at you, Weasley," I said instantly, picking up my quill to continue to take my notes. From the corner of my eye, I spied the face he made towards me and almost smiled at the sight of it. There was nothing quite like the feeling I got when I knew I'd managed to get under his skin.

* * *

Despite the reputation that members of my house might have held, I didn't like stepping foot in the library. Whilst I loved books and the potential to learn about anything and everything, I didn't like the strict silence of the room which the librarian always made sure to maintain. I was the sort of person that needed to hum or drum my fingers across the table – just do anything really – to aid my concentration as I read through countless tomes. If I didn't do something, some small action, then I'd find my thoughts drifting from the boring subject I was assigned to read about and onto something far more interesting, like the new potions that were being researched to battle the declining birth rates in the magical creatures.

But sometimes necessity would dictate that I did visit the library to borrow some books for an essay I'd been assigned to write. And unfortunately, since the essay I was supposed to be writing was for Snape, I knew that simply using the core textbook wouldn't be enough. The sour man had been clear about the expectations he held for his O.W.L. level students.

After scouring the Potions section for ten minutes, I had a small pile of books that looked like they might be useful. Levitating the pile to follow me towards an unoccupied table, I set them down and began to look through them one by one to decide which ones would be useful to take out. Pulling the first book from the top of the stack, I used my wand to flick to the index page. Finding the correct page number, I turned to that section and began to read, absentmindedly drumming my hand on the table top. I just hoped this wouldn't take long.

It took a painstakingly long time to look through all of the books I had found and at one point someone had joined me at my table but I was too focused to bother to check who it was. When I finally, _finally_ made it through the final book, I looked to the two piles of books – those that I would check out and those I wouldn't. Rising to my feet, I reached for the larger pile to return those books to their rightful places.

Once I returned to my space, I went to grab the remaining pile, fully intending to check them out so I could return to the sanctuary of Ravenclaw Tower. And I would have, had I not spied just _who_ had decided to settle across from me. It could have just as easily been his brother – of course, had I not spied the ink stain on the cuff of his shirtsleeve which I _might_ have caused because he kept annoying me during Transfiguration this morning.

" _Weasley_ ," I said so incredulously that he had no choice but to look at the sound of my voice.

"Landry," he returned, sounding a little confused as if he hadn't known whose table he had joined. "How long have you been here?"

"Longer than you." Adjusting the books in my arms, I couldn't help but add, "I was certain that someone would have needed to jinx you in order to get you into this room."

"Well, turns out that a jinx isn't necessary," he said with a shrug. "Inspiration is all I needed."

"Inspiration," I repeated dubiously and despite myself, I found myself taking a seat across from him again. He slid the parchment he had been working on across the table towards me but I didn't look at it.

"Whenever I get an idea I need to write it down right away. I usually end up running into the nearest room, this just happened to be it."

"Idea?" Glancing down at the parchment in front of me, I scanned it quickly before looking back to the Gryffindor across from me as I pushed it back towards him. He took it casually, setting it aside. "For a prank?"

"But I guess I should be thanking Malfoy for that – I was walking past him and his bodyguards in the hallway and thought that I just wanted to shut him up for a while. Without getting caught for casting a _Silencio_ on him."

"It sounds like a good idea." The compliment was so unlike me that Weasley's eyebrows rose quickly. "But how exactly are you going to get someone to take the potion in the first place? You're better off lacing something with it."

"Thanks and I was planning on using chocolates." He rubbed the back of his neck in an uncharacteristic gesture of bashfulness.

"How are you going to get it to work then?" I asked, just to make him snap out of whatever odd mood he was finding himself in.

"Hell, if I know," he shrugged, picking the parchment up so he could look over it again. He frowned at something he found and reached for his quill. Crossing something out, he wrote something else down as he confessed, "Georgie is the brains behind the operation. I might get a good idea or two, but he's the one with the smarts to make things actually work."

"I wouldn't say a good idea or two – more like or 20." He looked up suddenly at my words, eyes focused on mine and I found my words dying in my throat at how startled he was. Like he didn't think of it like, that like he wasn't used to people pointing out just how ingenious the things he and his brother created were. Maybe it wasn't often that people thought of their creations as impressive feats of magic, instead of as just childish tricks. Clearing my throat, I rose to my feet and prepared to leave with my books. "I guess I'll leave you to your planning then."

"I'll see you in Transfiguration, Landry," Weasley called out as I was already walking away from him.

"See you then," I murmured quietly, knowing he couldn't hear me. Rowena, all it took was a single look and I went mute. What was that about?

* * *

When I made it to our next Transfiguration lesson, my desk mate was nowhere in sight. While a few weeks ago I would have believed it odd that the Gryffindor arrived early to lessons, it was now odd to find that he _wasn't_ sitting there, waiting for me. Merlin, I almost wondered whether something had happened to him. But that was only a stray thought that I didn't entertain as I hurried to my seat to prepare for the lesson. Just as I settled into my seat with all my things laid out in front of me, I noticed Weasley as he silently walked into the room.

He stood a little awkwardly looking around the room with Jordan standing beside him. I furrowed my eyebrows and watched with my chin propped up by my fist as he scanned the room until Jordan pointed straight towards our desk. Weasley clapped Jordan on the back in thanks before crossing the room to join me. Straightening up in my seat, I watched his odd approach before shaking my head and turning back to my textbook which I'd opened at the chapter I forgot we had been assigned to read. I'd already spent most of breakfast reading it and now had barely two pages left to get through. McGonagall didn't often check that we'd done the reading, but there were those rare instances where she did and I didn't want to be caught out.

"Landry," he greeted as he settled down in his seat but not like he usually did. He didn't sit reclined as far back as he could but instead sat with his spine straightened and I frowned at that. His behaviour, while it wasn't odd enough to warrant my speculation, it still _did_. Like there was something wrong with him – like he wasn't himself.

Unless –

"Something wrong?" he asked and I forced myself not to demand to know which twin he was. Because Merlin, imagine if this _was_ my usual partner and I was just being overly suspicious? How embarrassing would that be?

"Nothing," I denied as I straightened up in my seat with a shake of my head. "I'm just knackered, that's all."

"You're not the only one," he confessed with an easy chuckle, and the sound was _wrong._ Not like his usual one. It was deeper – not by a lot but still a little deeper. Merlin, it sounded wrong to my ears. So, either I was just imagining things or the two brothers really had switched places for some odd reason. "I'm just about ready to go to bed."

But how was I going to find out?

"Did you spend last night working on that idea you told me about?" I tried to pass off my curiosity as being as casual as I could.

"Idea? You'll have to specify which one, love." I was almost certain now. Fred Weasley did _not_ call me love. And he certainly hadn't discussed _more_ than one idea with me.

"It was something about snap cards," I lied with a straight face as McGonagall entered the classroom.

"Snap cards," he repeated and for a moment I wondered whether I'd been caught in my lie as McGonagall addressed the class. He lowered his voice so as not to catch her attention, "We've decided to put that on the back burner for now."

And that was all the proof I needed. This wasn't Fred Weasley. Instead, his brother had taken his place. But why? Why was George Weasley of all people forcing himself to take a Transfiguration lesson? It wasn't like he was going to accomplish anything. Unless – unless it was a way of pulling the wool over _my_ eyes? Well, I certainly wasn't going to let these Weasley brothers play me. In fact, I might just play them in return.

Eyeing Weasley from the corner of my eye, I fought a smile as I turned towards him. Leaning forward to put a hand on his thigh, I suppressed my snickers when he almost jumped a foot in the air.

"What – what are you doing?" he asked, staring down at my hand before pulling his thigh away from me.

"I was just trying to get your attention," I insisted with an innocent smile. "Did you do the reading?"

"Reading?" He cleared his throat, leaning as far away from me as he could without gaining McGonagall's attention. "No, no I didn't."

"Want me to give you a quick summary?" I offered, reaching out to put a hand on top of his. He was quick to pull his hand away and reached out to push my shoulder to get me to back up.

"No thanks. I'll take my chances."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded quickly. "I'm sure. You should pay attention before McGonagall sees."

* * *

From the moment Weasley made his entrance at our next Transfiguration lesson, I knew that it was the right Weasley. Especially because he'd stormed over to our table straight away and slammed his bag down on the table. If he'd intended for that action to get my attention then it had certainly worked; I jumped a little at the noise and looked up from the research paper I'd been reading. Turning towards Weasley, I raised an eyebrow at the glare he sent towards me as he noisily pulled his chair out from beneath the table.

Rolling my eyes, I looked back to the paper I'd been reading. Weasley continued to huff beside me and I sighed, setting the paper aside. He clearly had no plans on letting me read in peace.

Crossing my arms, I demanded, "What is wrong with you today? Why have you got a stick up your arse?"

"Like you care," he grumbled and I scowled.

"You're right, I don't care." He opened his mouth to speak, but I barrelled on. "But you clearly _want_ me to care because otherwise, you wouldn't be throwing such a fit over something. Now hurry up and tell me what's wrong so I can get back to my reading."

Weasley met my eyes and when I arched an eyebrow, he hesitated. Shoulders slumping slightly, he thought for a long moment and I tried my best not to roll my eyes. Merlin's bloody fucking multicoloured beard, why was he throwing such a fit if he wasn't going to –

"Why were you like that last lesson?" he demanded, letting out a sharp breath the moment he'd said it. I didn't rush to answer his question and he turned quickly to face me, his knees brushing against my thigh.

Stifling a smile, I asked, "Why? Are you worried that I might like your brother more than I like you? Is that what this is about?"

"Yes," he said so honestly that my eyes widen. From the way he instantly clammed up, it was obvious that he'd spoken the word before he could stop himself. Screwing his eyes shut for a quick moment, he cursed under his breath and when he opened them, he looked towards me. His eyes looked over me hesitantly as I shuffled to the edge of my seat to put some distance between us. Clearing his throat, he asked, "How did you know?"

"I could tell from the moment he sat down," I admitted hesitantly, fidgeting with my fingers. Straightening in my seat, I forced myself to look towards him as if to prove that I wasn't flustered. "But don't worry. I dislike you both equally. The only reason that I played along was so that the pair of you would think again before trying to play me like that again."

"It wasn't even my idea," he confessed – more like grumbled under his breath really. "It was all George's idea."

Somehow, I doubted it, but I said nothing. Instead, I continued to watch Weasley who looked like he was ready to confess everything. Not that I had asked anyway.

"We both decided to switch places for a lesson because we were both getting a little tired of not making any progress."

"Progress?" I repeated, a little confused now.

"George sits next to Aguilar in Herbology and he's crushed on her for a while now but nothing's happened. I – well we thought if I switched places with him and tried to be myself, we'd see whether it helped."

"And if it _had_ helped, your brother would end up acting like _you_ just so he'd get the girl," I pointed out, wondering how stupid both brothers were. "Would he have been happy to know that the girl he liked would have preferred you?"

"Lucky for him she didn't like me better – might have liked me less actually." He shot a scowl towards me. "You even seemed to like him better than me."

"I already explained that to you," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "Are you going to get to the point of what you want to say before McGonagall walks in?"

He hesitated again, looking away from me to scan the classroom. "And well, I wanted to see if switching places with George would help me make progress with – "

"With _me_ ," I finished incredulously, turning sharply towards him. He wasn't looking at me, eyes focused on McGonagall's desk at the front of the classroom. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

He nodded and I gasped quietly; Merlin, I was _not_ ready to have this sort of discussion. Weasley eyed me from the corner of his eye and I resolutely didn't look at him. No doubt he could see the red flush that was threatening to take over my entire face but wisely said nothing about it. Ducking my head, I let my hair fall around my face to act as a shield. Rowena, this was _so embarrassing_.

But I just _knew_ that he was still watching me, waiting for me to say something. Clearing my throat, I spoke quietly as McGonagall walked into the room.

"Now that we've had this discussion, we can just focus on the lesson."

He was silent and I wondered just what he was thinking about my words. Would he take them as a rejection? Because they were? Or weren't they? Merlin, this was all so confusing. Feelings weren't like a Transfiguration spell where you knew that one hand movement meant one thing and another meant something else. But a combination of those two movements meant something _completely different_.

Like the blush I was sporting, was that embarrassment or pleasure? Or the blood pounding through my veins? Was that because his words had taken me by surprise or because there was anticipation pumping through my body? But what did they mean when paired together? Was I happy by his admission or just downright flustered by something so surprising?

Groaning quietly, I buried my face in my hands. How could he even like me when we spent more time arguing then we did talking? How could _I like him_?

* * *

Naturally, I reacted in a very Ravenclaw way when presented with a problem that I was struggling to solve. I ran as far away from the bleeding problem as I could because it was just _annoying_ to be presented with something that only served to confuse you the more you looked at it. Honestly, it wasn't as if I _needed_ to solve the problem – it wasn't like I had a grade at risk if I didn't solve it. So there was really no need to solve it.

I knew my logic was faulty and despite knowing just how faulty it was, I allowed myself to be comforted by it. It was the shield I used to justify my suddenly determined avoidance of Weasley. Merlin, I hadn't even attempted to be subtle about it; my friends had figured that something had happened but they didn't know what. They didn't need to know either, just the knowledge that _something_ had happened was enough to have them leading me away from Weasley whenever he appeared at the end of the corridor. But my avoidance just made our shared Transfiguration lessons all the more awkward.

Evidently, he soon had enough and chose to corner me while I was on my way back to the common room. I had no idea when he had appeared in front of me, but before I could hope to say something, he'd taken my arm and pulled me into one of the many unused classrooms. By the time he'd released my arm and shut the door behind him, I'd managed to school my features into a mask of annoyance.

When he turned to face me, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Really? Why on earth have you decided to be so dramatic?"

"I wouldn't have needed to be so _dramatic_ if _you_ weren't being such a coward," he shot back as I crossed the room to take a seat at one of the empty tables. "Really, I thought you were above running away from me."

"Well, I still don't know why you keep trying to corner me," I insisted and when he raised his eyebrows incredulously, I shrugged. "I mean, what is it that you're wanting to hear from me? You haven't even _said_ what you want from me? I mean you didn't even really say that you liked me either, you _implied_ it so really if one of us is the coward –"

He crossed the room suddenly until he was standing in front of the table I was seated at with his hands pressed to the top of it. Amused by my silence, he wondered aloud, "Would you like me to spell it out for you? So, you can stop pretending to be so oblivious?"

No. I didn't want that.

"What about your brother?" I asked suddenly, making him frown as he straightened out.

"Why are you asking about George?" he asked defensively, trying not to scowl.

"Well, it's been a while since the two of you switched places?" I shrugged, meeting his eyes for a moment. "I was just wondering if something else had happened between him and – Aguilar, did you say it was? I mean, the pair of you _did_ make this mess so you could help each other, right?"

"My presence didn't help," he said shortly. "But you already knew that anyway. They're dating now so I guess things worked out in the end."

"It's good for them," I agreed quietly, swinging my legs underneath me. "Although I can't imagine why you're being there didn't endear Aguilar to you in the first place."

He narrowed his eyes at me and I was back to avoiding looking at him. "How long are you going to keep dancing around the topic?"

"You know, I'm more curious about just how often you pull girls into empty classrooms."

" _Landry_."

"I'm just saying – we might have an issue if you –"

"Are you being annoying on purpose? So that I let you go?"

"That might have been the plan," I admitted hesitantly. With a sigh, I forced my spine to straighten out and raised my eyes to his. "Look, Weasley, just how long are you planning on keeping me in here for? I need to get back to the common room so I can chill for a while before I need to start my rounds."

"I'll let you go as soon as I get an answer." He tucked his hands into his robe pockets, as he promised, "That's it. Whether it's a rejection or not, just give me an answer and we can put this all behind us."

"And if I _did_ reject you," I started hesitantly and saw the way his expression flickered for a second before he managed to compose himself, "would that change things between us? Would it be awkward again?"

"I can't promise it won't be but only for a short while." He let out a deep breath, "Is that your answer?"

Biting my bottom lip, I shook my head and pretended I didn't see the blatant relief fill his face. "Honestly, I don't think I have an answer to give you." He called my first name and I shook my head, "I mean it. I'm not quite sure what to tell you – I haven't even given myself the time to think about it because I've been so focused on avoiding you."

"So now what?"

"Will you give me time? Just until our next lesson and I'll think about it?" Smiling hesitantly, I added, "Just don't go chasing after me to get me to try and make up my mind quicker."

"Alright, I promise," he said with a short nod. "But you'll definitely say something next lesson?"

"Yeah, I will. I promise."

Accepting my words, he stepped away from the table and walked across the room towards the door. He unlocked it quickly before opening it and gesturing for me to leave the room first. Grabbing my bag, I rose to my feet and left the room behind with quick steps. Weasley followed shortly after me, heading in the opposite direction as he went back to his own common room. Merlin, I needed to speak to the girls.

* * *

I really should have known that Fred Impatient Weasley would expect an answer the _moment_ I entered the classroom for our next classroom. As usual, he was waiting at the table before my arrival and as soon as I crossed the threshold of the room, I felt his eyes on me. It was enough to have me stopping in my steps, and tightening my grip on my bag, I forced myself to take measured, calm steps to my usual seat.

Completely avoiding his eyes, I settled down for the lesson and pulled my things out of my bag. Uncapping my inkwell, I placed it beside my quill and waited a little eagerly for McGonagall to start the lesson. The sooner she started, the less chance there was of Weasley just demanding the answer that I wasn't yet ready to give him. Rowena, it would probably take me the entire lesson to gather the strength I needed to actually give him his answer.

Bouncing my knees as I sat, my eyes stayed rooted onto the doorway as I anxiously watched the door for any signs of our Professor. If only she'd walk in and just begin the lesson already! Merlin, I'd even made sure to take the long way to the classroom so I could cut the waiting time a little more.

"Landry," Weasley started cautiously and I tried not to wince as he leaned in closer towards me. Making myself turn my eyes away from the door and towards his, it took a lot of effort not to glance away instantly.

"What is it?" I asked, biting my tongue when he furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"My answer –"

"The lesson's about to begin," I said quickly, finally _finally_ seeing McGonagall walk into the room. The older witch crossed the space to her desk with quick strides to start the lesson. Before looking away from Weasley, I saw the annoyance flash across his face before he managed to hide it. I didn't blame him for being annoyed; I was being rather infuriating. "I've got plenty of time to give you your answer."

"You promised," he reminded me as he too turned to face the front of the classroom.

Merlin, as if I could have ever forgotten. But, no matter how irritated Weasley might have been by my dragging things out, he certainly didn't say it aloud and I was grateful for that. Although he _did_ keep throwing me looks every few minutes as if his gaze would manage to wear through my resistance the more often he kept doing it. Which of course, it wouldn't.

What it _did_ manage to do, was amuse me so much that I had to hide my smile behind my hand lest McGonagall see it and think something was up. It was endearing, just how eager he was for my answer and I realised that perhaps I was a little eager myself give him the answer. Even if I wasn't certain how I would say it because I'd learned that with these sorts of things, no matter how often you rehearsed what you were going to say, you very rarely ended up actually using those words. It just didn't work that way.

The next time Weasley turned his head towards me, I glanced curiously at him and met his eyes. When I raised my eyebrows in a silent question, he coloured brightly and turned to face the front again, with his head ducked a little. Allowing myself a brief smile, I did the same only to start when the bell rang for the end of the lesson.

Surely the lesson hadn't ended already? I hadn't managed to make any notes! Weasley had been so distracting as he sat beside me that I couldn't seem to put my quill to the parchment. Merlin, I'd need to find someone that I could borrow notes from.

Distractedly I rose to my feet and started to pack my things up. Just who could I ask? I could always ask one of my dormmates although if I asked Stanning there was no guarantee that I'd be able to read her handwriting. It might be a risk that I had to take because really what other option did I have? Especially considering –

A hand settled on my elbow to stop me from walking away from the table. Deciding to ask Stanning later, I looked to the hand holding me before raising my eyes to Weasley who had risen to his own feet. I continued to wait for him to pull his hand away and to let me pass but if anything, he used it to pull me closer to him.

"Weasley?"

"Stop pissing about Landry," he ordered and I remembered. I was supposed to be giving him an answer, wasn't I?

"Oh," I said quietly as our classmates began to slowly file out of the room. Clearing my throat, I admitted, "I got a bit lost in my thoughts there."

"I could tell," he said dryly, rolling his eyes. "You were just going to leave – never mind the fact that this last hour has been hell for me."

"Don't be overdramatic." Pulling my arm away from him, I straightened up. Weasley clearly thought that I was going to run away because he latched quickly onto my hands. "Now about your answer –"

"Yes?" he asked eagerly, so eagerly that I struggled not to smile.

Rising to my feet, I pressed a quick kiss to his lips, still very conscious that we were in the middle of a classroom that was half filled with our classmates. It didn't matter that it lasted a second – if that – because Fred breathed in sharply through his nose and stared down at me with wide eyes as I pulled away from him. Unable to hold his eyes for more than a second or two, I pulled my hands away from him.

"I think that's enough of an answer," I said quietly, coughing to hide my embarrassment as I hurried away from him.

I didn't make it far before he was calling out to me as he rushed to catch up to me. If I really wanted to leave him behind, it would be easy to duck into one of the passages and get out of his way. But I didn't. Instead, I continued to walk and let him drop into step beside me. Even when he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and offered to walk me to my common room, I did nothing more than shrug out of his arms and told him to calm himself before he got overexcited.


	2. Epilogue: 8 Years Later

_8 YEARS LATER_

Not that Fred and George would ever admit it, but one of their biggest worries was that their wives would not get along. And maybe, whilst we'd been at school Aguilar – well, Weasley now – and I wouldn't have gotten along simply because we'd run in different social circles. But, as we found ourselves having to be around one another more and more often, we wound up becoming really close. Close enough that, after receiving an owl from her asking if I wanted to meet up for some tea, I promptly kicked my husband out of our home and invited her over. She was glad for the chance to get away from her own idiotic husband.

Fred, knowing that we could very well spend _hours,_ just curled up on the sofa and talking to one another, left the house without complaint to go and bother his brother for a while. By the time my sister-in-law had arrived, I had a teapot and some teacups already waiting on the coffee table. The witch, who was visibly struggling under the added weight of her first pregnancy, gave me a beamingly thankful smile as I crossed the room to help her out of her coat.

"Sorry for dropping in like this," she apologised as she waddled over towards the sofa and sank down gratefully onto it.

"I invited you," I reminded her as I started to make her tea the way she liked it. She accepted the cup with a grateful smile.

"I just needed to get out of the house for a while; George was driving me mad."

We shared a knowing glance; a glance that only the wives of the infamous Weasley twins could share. "What was it this time?"

"I know he means well," she said before taking a sip from her tea. "But honestly, I'm about to strangle him if he continues to monitor what I eat. He's always saying you're not supposed to eat this, or eat that and _Salazar,_ if I have to remind him one more time that he's not a healer, I might stuff one of those silencing sweets in his mouth and be done with it."

"That's why I'm putting this baby stuff off for a while," I confessed, rolling my eyes.

But my irritation fled quickly when our kitten – one I'd bought after a fight with Fred – leapt onto the sofa. She curled up in my lap with a content purr and just like that I was smiling as I scratched behind her ears.

"Did you ever get around to naming her?"

"Well, _I_ like to call her Cleo but Fred calls her Minnie – and she responds more to Minnie. Which is just _downright annoying_."

"Minnie?" the other witch almost choked on her tea. "As in after McGonagall?"

I nodded, rolling my eyes. "He's so pleased with the name."

"And you thought he'd never warm up to her," my sister-in-law said with a roll of her eyes as she struggled to sit up so she could brush a finger over Minnie's ears. Our little baby stretched with a languid purr.

"He's definitely warmed up to her," I confessed as I shifted forward slightly to pick up the plate of biscuits and held them out towards Aguilar – _Weasley damn it_ – before she tried to get up again. "But he's not pleased that I call her our baby."

"I'm telling you," she insisted as she took a bite from her shortbread biscuit, "there's something in their blood that just has them going _mad_ over babies. And I thought woman were the ones that were supposed to be broody."

"I still think this is your fault. I thought we were going to be sisters in arms about remaining childless for a little longer."

"Well _I_ think this is George's fault," she confessed with a frown, running a soothing hand over her stomach in the way she did whenever my unborn nephew got a little too overactive and decided that he liked smashing his mother's organs around. "I mean, you forget your contraception just once and –"

"Okay," I said loudly, stopping her half way. "I _really_ don't want to know!"

The other witch smiled, hiding it behind her cup. Because it had been so very long since we'd spoken like this, we spent the next few hours catching up on what we had missed. Merlin, we talked about a ridiculous range of things like when Minnie had accidentally eaten one of Fred's newest creations to just how often our mother-in-law popped around as if to make sure that we weren't starving her sons. Merlin, she was a lovely woman but there really was no way you couldn't _not_ be offended by how little faith she had in us to look after her sons. But why on earth were we looking after them anyway? They were more than old enough to be looking after themselves.

"Love," George called out to his wife as he stepped through the fireplace. We both clammed up quickly, turning towards the sound of his voice as both twins stepped into the room. "I think it's time you came home. We've got that hospital appointment in the morning."

"I almost forgot," she admitted, accepting George's help to rise to her feet. "Thanks for having me."

"You're always welcome," I assured her.

With an arm around his wife's waist, George waved goodbye to me and thanked me for keeping an eye on his wife. Said wife, scowled at him and smacked his chest but allowed him to apparate her away nonetheless. When his brother and sister-in-law had left, Fred crossed the room to take the now vacated space.

Minnie, recognising her father, instantly clambered off her lap to settled across his knees. No matter how much he complained about finding cat hairs all over his clothes, he still indulged her by playing with her tail.

"You like her Fred Weasley," I said with a smile as Fred looked up at me. "Admit it."

"I never said I didn't like her," he said just as quickly. "I just think it'd be good for George and me to have a kid around the same time."

"You can't go your entire life doing things at the same time." He scowled at my words, looking down at Minnie as she swatted at his arm when he stopped playing with her. "Why don't we focus on Minnie for now? If you manage to look after her well, then I'll consider it."

"Fine." He stared down at Minnie before admitting, "It's a good thing she's cute."

"Of course, she is."

"Although," he said slowly, looking up at me from under his eyelashes. I narrowed my eyes at the sight of the slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I thought you were calling her Cleo?"


End file.
